Lonely Eyes
by jsaint33
Summary: An alternate universe from the main Marvel continuity, focusing on Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff, but not as Cap and Widow. Started off as a prompt from the song Lonely Eyes by Johnny Bulford, Jason Matthews and Laura Veltz, performed by Chris Young. No infringement intended. Hope you all enjoy.


Captain Steven Rogers has just returned home from his last year in the Army serving his country. He'd watched a lot of his brothers die in battle, and while all the loss hurt, only one hurt more so. The one that tore away at him was his best friend, a brother since their childhood, James 'Bucky' Barnes. These two friends were inseparable since the day they met. Bucky was always looking out for the scrawny Steve Rogers, especially when the bullies came around. They'd been together through every major event in the other's life: birthdays, girlfriends, break-ups, and the day Steve's mother passed away after a long battle with cancer. Bucky was the first to know when Steve met a fiery red-head on his nineteenth birthday. This girl was more than beautiful, she was intoxicating. She had been studying ballet all her life, and she was the first girl to give him the time of day. Her name was Natasha Romanoff. Then everything changed when Bucky enlisted. Steve had always wanted to serve his country, and though he had Natasha, a piece of him was still lost. So he enlisted as well. The day he left, he made a promise that he would write Natasha every day, and for several months the letters kept going back and forth. Then one day, two years in, the letters stopped arriving. He wrote her a few more times, but never received a response. Steve was devastated, and threw himself wholly into the war. Even on the leave he and Bucky got, Steve was withdrawn. In an effort to break the monotonous melancholy, Bucky took Steve out to a bar for his twenty-first birthday, despite the objections. It's the same crowded bar he is sitting in now on a Tuesday night, more than six years later.

"Hey you can't light that cigar up in here! Take it outside!"

The bartender yelled over the noise at the guy who lit up a cheap cigar. As he walked out, a red-haired beauty was walking in through the cloud of smoke. She had been in Russia for the past six years after receiving an invitation to dance with the famous Bolshoi Ballet. She quickly scanned the room, looking for a place to sit while trying to ignore comments about her legs, offers to make tonight the best night of her life, and multiple other offers from drunks to buy her a drink. She finally spotted an empty stool at the bar, and made her way over.

Steve was nursing his beer, lost in his memories when she sat down. He spared a sideways glance, but thought nothing of it. She was wearing a tan leather jacket, with a red t-shirt and black jeans. But it wasn't her clothes that caught his attention. It was her red hair which was the exact same shade as Natasha's. Silently he cursed himself for thinking about Nat, especially after all these years. She had probably moved on and gotten married, and like always he had waited too long.

For a moment, the woman thought she felt the eyes of the guy next to her looking over, but when she cast a glance his way, he was focused on his beer. She couldn't deny that something about him felt familiar, but these days everything reminded her of the guy she let get away. So after a quick look, taking notice of his blue jacket, white t-shirt, jeans and the dog tags hanging around his neck she looked back to her glass of wine. At that moment, one of the drunks from earlier walked up behind her, reeking of cheap whiskey. He was at least three sheets to the wind already, so his pick-up line elicited a roll of her eyes.

"Hey Red, how would you like to get out of here, and go to a real party with the man of your dreams?"

"Well when he arrives, I'll be sure to do that."

Steve tried to hold back a chuckle, but her audacity surprised him. She didn't even hesitate in her attempt to embarrass the guy, but he didn't take her rejection too well, and placed a rough hand on her shoulder.

"You know what, that wasn't a question. You're coming with me."

Steve was about to stand up, and take matters into his own hands when the Bouncer walked up, and dealt with the situation.

"You've had enough Rumlow, go home and sleep it off."

"Not until she gives me an answer. So get your hands off of me."

Even with the Bouncer there, Steve was unable to contain himself. He spoke up, but dropped his voice an octave deeper than his normal speaking voice.

"She already gave you an answer dumbass. Why don't you spare yourself further embarrassment and walk away."

Rumlow looked through his blood-shot eyes over at the guy who spoke. Even seated, the blonde was easily taller than him, and looked like he wouldn't go down easily if a fight broke out. He fell silent and let the bouncer lead him away. With the drunk gone, Steve turned his attention back to his drink, while the woman thanked him for his help. Her emerald green eyes caught his cerulean blue eyes, and a small smile graced her lips. It was just a brief glance as her phone beeped with a text message. The moment was gone, and she focused on finishing her drink, but occasionally still looked over at his eyes that seemed so familiar.

With her attention engrossed on her phone, Steve couldn't help but think to himself about her eyes.

"Those eyes have got to be the perfect shade of green. Heaven help me keep them looking at me for longer than just a two second acknowledgement. Maybe I'm just fooling myself, but she seems kind of lonely. I hope I don't have to take a cab home without getting to know her better. I'll be kicking myself if I do."

For the better part of an hour, they both sat there. Normally Steve would have finished his beer and already walked away, but he was trying to work up the nerve to talk to her. Likewise, she kept waiting for him to say something. But the night came to end when they finished their respective drinks. She paid for her wine and walked away, her attention still on her phone. Steve thought he had missed his chance, and after paying for his beer, also left the bar. He was surprised to see her standing outside, and the same drunk from before still trying to get her to come with him.

"Come on Red, it's just a party. Besides, I think you were just toying with me in there. You know that you're not gonna find another guy in New York like me. I'm single, I'm rich, and you're getting up there in years. Why not settle?"

"I can see why you're single; if that's the best you can do for a pick-up line. And for the record, no woman likes to hear about her 'years' from a drunken asshole."

With as many people in the bar as there were, Rumlow knew he couldn't take it any further than he had with the bouncer, the bartender, and everyone else watching him. On the street he thought it would be a different story, and roughly grabbed hold of her arm, squeezing it tightly before starting to pull her along with him. He noticed she still had her phone in hand, and grabbed it, throwing it to the ground and smashing it with his foot.

"Now what are you gonna do? Can't call for help."

"She doesn't need to call. Let her go."

Steve spoke with the same intimidating voice from before as Rumlow bumped into him. With his second glance, Rumlow knew his first impression was correct. The blonde in front of him had an angry look in his eyes, and was almost four inches taller than him in height. But Brock Rumlow always had more guts than brains. He pushed the woman behind him, and prepared for a fight.

"What, you think you're going to hit me, Rumlow was it? Trust me, that's not a good idea."

"Why, you afraid you'll get your ass kicked in front of God and everybody? Or are you just afraid that the woman you played knight is shining armor for will laugh at you when you're bleeding on the pavement."

"Actually, I'm not afraid of either of those eventualities. I spent the last six years in the Army. I was Special Forces and I could probably kill you sixteen ways with my thumb. But that wouldn't prove anything. Walk away."

"You're bluffing."

"You sure about that?"

Steve slowly removed his jacket, handing it off to the Bouncer. No one really wanted to see a fight happen here, even if Rumlow deserved what was coming to him. But it was the sight of Steve Rogers that had Rumlow breaking out in a sweat. Quickly the antagonist changed his mind, knowing in that instant that he had bitten off more than he could chew.

"You know what, I think I'm gonna go sleep this off. I may be drunk, but I'm still sober enough to know not to mess with Special Forces."

As Rumlow turned tail and fled like a wounded puppy, Steve sighed in relief. He had been bluffing, and was thankful that the bluff wasn't called. When he reclaimed his jacket, the bouncer was in awe. No one had ever stood up to Rumlow twice in succession, and what he witnessed was likely never going to happen again.

"Mister, I don't know who you are. But you've definitely got more balls than brains."

"Not really, Rumlow's a bully. I've dealt with guys like him all my life. One thing I know about bullies is that they hate to fight."

"Well, I'm glad you were here. What's your name?"

"It's Steve."

"Well sir, I'd be honored if you'd let me buy you a drink."

"Thanks, but I was actually headed home."

For a moment, both Steve and the bouncer were so wrapped up in their conversation they had forgotten about the woman who was standing behind them. She was always used to taking care of herself, and she wasn't sure why this guy who she didn't know would stand up for her twice, at least until she heard him say his name.

"I'm sorry, did you say your name was Steve?"

Now embarrassed, Steve turned around and his eyes met the same pair of emerald green eyes he had caught only a quick glimpse of before. When the woman ran a hand through her hair, and pushed the stray strands back from her face, he was instantly taken back in time to six and half years ago on the night he left.

"Nat?"

Natasha wasn't sure what to say, and she wasn't sure what she was feeling other than beleaguered confusion. So she just nodded, not really believing that he was standing in front of her. But she had to laugh when he pinched himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Even after the initial shock wore off, neither of them knew what to say, and all was silent until an outside observer broke the silence for them.

"Oh for the love of God! Just kiss her already!"

The voice came from the bouncer standing behind them at the door of the bar. Both Steve and Natasha's faces turned bright red at what was shouted at them. It was at that moment that Steve's past devastation welled up inside, causing him to explode in anger.

"What the hell makes you think I want to kiss her? Why do you even feel the need to assume I know her?"

"Because you called her Nat? Seems like a nickname you might have given her? But if I overstepped the boundaries of this little reunion, I'm sorry."

Now Steve was mortified that he went off on the well-meaning man behind him. Embarrassment quickly flared up in him and Natasha again when everyone on the street began chanting kiss her, kiss her, kiss her. Natasha recovered first, taking hold of Steve's hand and pulling him along behind her. A collective sigh of disappointment sounded out from behind them as they rounded a corner.

"Nat…Nat wait a minute. I…"

"Catch your breath Steve, you're okay. I'm not going anywhere."

It took Steve a few minutes of deep breaths to regain his composure. His mind was a jumbled mess of emotions and questions, but despite all of his musings, one question popped out as the forefront of his thoughts.

"Can we go somewhere and talk?"

"Where did you have in mind?"

"Well, there's a nice little Italian Bistro not far from here. I haven't eaten yet, and I think you haven't either. So…?"

"Steve, you still haven't learned how to properly ask a woman out on a date; have you? What would Bucky say?"

Natasha smirked at Steve's awkwardness, until she saw him look down at her mention of his best friend. Suddenly she knew that there was a lot they needed to talk about, not the least of which was the last six years.

"Okay, is this place a long walk from here?"

"Not really, but my bike is around the corner. How about a ride, like we used to do?"

Natasha took a quick look around the corner and all the spectators that had been there before had either left, or returned to their own business. In an effort to avoid drawing attention to themselves, she wrapped her arm around Steve's waist while he pretended to laugh at something she said. When they reached his motorcycle, she was surprised to find that it was the exact same one he had when they were dating, and he had even kept the helmet he had bought for her. The restaurant ended up being three blocks from the bar, and after they ordered the food, Steve sat there absent-mindedly pushing his food around his plate.

"Okay, so you wanted to talk, but this silence is bugging me. I'm sure you've got a lot of questions Steve."

"Actually, just one. Why did you stop writing me back?"

"Wait, what?"

"Come on Nat, we wrote back and forth for almost a year. Then on the second year in, your letters just stopped coming. I wrote to you but I never received a response. What happened?"

"I never got any letters that second year. I thought you had stopped writing to me. I even sent you a letter telling you that I had been invited to perform with the Bolshoi Ballet. I was so excited, and wanted to share that with you, but I never got a response."

"I didn't know that. The last letter I got from you was about your early graduation from college."

"So that's why you didn't know I had been living in Russia? All those letters probably went to my old address here in New York?"

"Probably. Well this is uh…awkward."

"To say the least."

They both chuckled nervously at the revelation. After each taking another few bites of their meals, the questions turned towards relationships.

"So Nat, did you uh…are you…,"

"No, I'm not seeing anybody. The Ballet kept me pretty busy, going from one tour to the next. What about you?"

"Nope, no one special. Not for a while now."

"Come on, all those years overseas, and there wasn't one woman? No one could see how special you were?"

"I'm not going to lie, plenty of women flirted with me, but there was always one who had my heart. I still carry her picture. No one ever compared to her."

Natasha knew he was talking about her. In all the years they had been apart, he was the one always on her mind. What she didn't know was how he would react to her next question. But she was always bold when they were together, and didn't sugar coat anything.

"So, do you think we could go back to the way things were? Pick up where we left off?"

"I don't know if that's possible. It's been a long time. I did a lot of looking back after Bucky died, and I told myself that when I got back I would be done living in the past."

"Wait a minute, when, how did Bucky die?"

"That's a story for another time. It's still too painful for me to talk about. I'm not going to ever forget how it happened, but he would want me to move forward."

Natasha looked down at her plate. She had a feeling this would be what he might say, and it was always a distinct possibility in the back of her mind.

"You might be right, I guess I should have expected you would move on, thanks for dinner. I guess I should be…,"

She started to stand up to leave, but Steve gently placed a hand on top of hers, and ran his fingers over her knuckles, then interlaced their fingers. When she looked up into his eyes, there was warmth behind them that she missed seeing, and she knew what he was going to say before he even said it.

"Looking back isn't what I want to do, Nat. But starting over again, moving forward, I only want to do that with you. I've thought a lot about you over the years, and I knew that if I ever saw you again, I wasn't going to wait any longer. I had this planned out for my first leave, but I guess now is a good a time as any."

Steve slowly put his fork down, and wiped his face and suddenly sweaty palms with his napkin. If anyone asked, he would describe his feelings at that moment as abject terror, but he had been waiting a long time for this. Throwing caution to the wind he got down on one knee and reached into his jacket pocket. He'd been carrying this box with him since their one year anniversary, even when he was overseas. It felt like a good luck charm that kept him safe.

"Natalia Alianovna Romanova, will you make me the happiest man in the world? Will you marry me?"

Natasha's eyes flooded with tears at the stunning proposal. The whole room fell silent and couldn't help but watch this. When the silence became unbearably tense, Steve began to feel like he had done this too soon. He started to close the lid of the box, hiding the fourteen carat gold band that was wrapped around a three carat diamond. She had known what he was going to say about moving forward, but she wasn't prepared for this.

"Steve, you…, I…,"

And in that instant, the moment was over. Natasha wiped the tears from her face as Steve returned to his seat, slipping the ring box back in his pocket. Silently he cursed himself for making such a bold attempt on the first time he's seen her in almost seven years. The atmosphere became even more awkward when their waitress walked up with the bill. Only a tiny glimmer of hope remained in the fact that Natasha didn't get up and run from the restaurant. With the bill paid, they walked out together, looks of sympathy for Steve crossing the faces of the remaining customers. Since they had both just gotten back into town, neither of them had found a permanent residence yet. So it came as a surprise when they pulled up to the hotel, and it was the one both of them had booked a room in. Steve was on the floor and in the room directly above Natasha's, but they took separate elevators to avoid making an already awkward situation even more uncomfortable. In his room, Steve was beating himself up even more than he had on the ride back from the restaurant.

"Gotta trust my instincts. What the hell was I thinking, proposing to her after nearly seven years apart? I deserved not getting an answer from her. She has every right to hate me and never want to see me again. I'd never want to see me again after that. And Bucky, he's probably up there in Heaven laughing his ass off at me. Best to just pack up my stuff and hit the road, I hear California is nice this time of year."

While Steve was haphazardly throwing the few clothes back into his bag, Natasha was pacing her room. She too was kicking herself for letting the proposal go unanswered.

"He's going to hate me. I just know it. He held on to his feelings for me all of those years, and I couldn't even tell him that I still love him. I couldn't even say yes. Maybe it was a shock that he proposed, but I should have said something other than just stuttering. I wouldn't blame him if he never wanted to see me again."

Hours passed as the two of them berated themselves for their respective reactions. Steve picked up his duffel and made for the door fifteen times to just leave, but he stopped fifteen times and dropped his bag as well. Natasha paced, and flipped the T.V. on and then off. She went through the same routine for a good thirty minutes more, before finally just mentally kicking herself again, and ran out her door towards the elevator. When she was inside the elevator after what seemed like an hour of waiting for it, she paced again, wishing the little box would move faster, even though she was only one floor away. The doors barely had time to open as she dashed out, running towards Steve's room. She reached his room and was about to knock when the door opened and he was standing there, duffel slung across his back.

"Nat…,"

"Steve; don't go."

Instantly she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him with all the passion she had been holding in. Steve staggered back a few steps from the force of her body colliding with his. For a moment he couldn't believe what has happening as he tried to steady himself with a hand against the wall. Natasha's desire was fervent, and he finally found himself loosening up and returning her embrace while she continued to plant breathless kisses all over his face and neck. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he lifted her up, and staggered again, her weight combined with his and that of his duffel bag. When they finally broke for air, they both had to catch their breath. She recovered first, and spoke.

"Ask me again."

"What?"

"Ask me again Steve."

He knew what she wanted to hear, and after quickly retrieving the box from his pocket, again got down on one knee. His eyes held the same hope as before when he did this in the restaurant, but also a slight look of fear as if she would hesitate again.

"Natasha Romanoff, I love you with all of my heart, and there was never anyone I wanted to spend the rest of my life with more than you. After nearly seven years apart, I know this is sudden, but Natasha will you marry me?"

She pretended to contemplate the question, tapping a finger against her chin. She was teasing him, and no tears burst forth this time. When she saw how nervous he had gotten again, a huge smile broke out across her face. It was bright and beautiful, a smile she hadn't had for a long time. Slowly she knelt down in front of him, and extended her left hand out. Steve instantly sighed in relief, knowing that his fear of a no was unfounded. As he slipped the ring on her finger, he was still waiting for her actual answer, even though he knew what it was.

"So…, that's a yes?"

"Yes, Steven Grant Rogers, yes I will marry you."


End file.
